


Do No Harm

by Aragem



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018), Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Diplomacy, Escape, Espionage, Gen, Prisoner of War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 07:37:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18245342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aragem/pseuds/Aragem
Summary: For We May Hope AUA small team is sent to Etheria to prevent a crisis that could threaten the Voltron Coalition.  However, things don't go according.  Now the team must escape the Fright Zone, traverse the Whispering Wood, and seek asylum at Bright Moon.





	1. Chapter 1

They should have guessed the Galra Empire would have given the Evil Horde anti-aircraft missiles as a sign of goodwill.

Hindsight is 20/20, Bridget thought as she snapped the harness in place across her chest. The pilot struggled with the ship’s controls that vibrated in his hands as he struggled to steady the craft. Eva secured herself in the opposite chair, her wide eyes betraying barely contained terror. Her hair was tied back from her face, and it flounced with each jolt of the ship.

“Regret coming along?” Bridget called over the sound of metal twisting.

“Just having the time of my life!” Eva shouted back in a shrill voice.

***

_“You don’t have to come.” They were loading their gear into small compartments at the back of the ship. Bridget was rolling up a pair of thermal underwear and wedged it between a parka and a wetsuit. They had no idea what sort of climate they will encounter on the planet so they prepared for anything._

_Eva nudged a footlocker in place beneath a cot and locked it in place. “You can’t have all the fun being a secret agent for the Coalition.”_

_“It’s not what you think. It’s not slinking around in a tight suit and high action shootouts. Most of it is monitoring signals and communications to find a pattern or glean some snippet of valuable information.”_

_“Hey, it sounds better than spending another week teaching cadets on how not to shoot their eye out.”_

_Bridget stood up and knuckled her lower back. “You’re good at it. The recruits like you.”_

_“More like have crushes on me,” Eva gave a sardonic chuckle. Her dark eyes were bright with an amused sparkle. “If Acxa would train them with a smile, they’d transfer their affections to her.”_

_“You and Acxa make a good team,” Bridget said amused. “She teaches them technique and you encourage them.”_

_In a mockery of offense, Eva set her hands on her hips. “And you’re saying I can’t teach them marksmanship myself?”_

_“I’m sure you can, but not before Acxa taught you how to shoot,” Bridget glibbed._

_Eva made a motion as if she was going to smack Bridget before dropping her hand and laughing. “Acxa can handle things until I return. I have to make sure you come home okay or I’ll have to answer to Liam.”_

_The red-haired woman gave her friend a dubious look. Then she lowered herself onto a bench. “I should have known my Dad would ask you to come with me.”_

_“It wasn’t only his idea, Bridget,” Eva said sitting across from her on the opposite bench. “Hell, he’d come with you if the Princess and Kolivan would let him.”_

_“This is a four-man mission and, I love my father, but he’s not cut out for espionage or diplomacy. He’s better off staying on Earth with Connor.”_

_The old man didn’t accept Bridget’s new role as a saboteur. After being reunited, he expected her to return home and be his daughter and Connor’s mother again. He never understood why Bridget wasn't willing to settle down and they had clashed over it many times._

_“You’re going to video chat with them later?” Eva asked._

_“Yeah, in about an hour.” Bridget was looking forward to seeing Connor but feared to have another row with Dad._

***

Bridget woke up with dust in her nose and a bloody taste in her mouth. Something had smacked her face during the crash. Blood seeped into her right eye and the left eye was swollen shut. The pain was minor compared to the agony lancing through her skull.

“Dear God,” she moaned when fire poured through her scalp as she turned her head.

“Don’t move,” a voice told her. “You’ve sustained a head injury.”

Recognizing the voice, reached out and seized a thick arm. “What about Eva?”

“She’s fine. A few lacerations, but she's whole. You’re more hurt than she.”

The straps were released and she slipped from the harness as she passed out again. She came to with bandages covering one eye, but her face was numb. Eva's visage swam above her making her nauseous. She rolled onto her side and dry retched. Once she recovered, Eva helped her sit up and offered her a water pouch.

After taking a few long sips, almost draining the pouch, Bridget said in a raspy voice, “How’s the ship?”

“Fucked all to hell,” Eva replied pressing a cold pack to a glowing red mark on her forehead. “It’ll never fly again so we need to vacate it before it self destructs.”

It wouldn’t do for the Horde to get their hands on a working Altean ship for reverse engineering. Bridget nodded and pushed herself to stand despite her pounding head. “Let’s go.”

Eva and the other members of their team helped Bridget from the wreckage. She sat on a rock to recover while they unloaded what of their gear survived the crash. Whenever her eyesight came into focus, she saw the ship had crashed headlong into a cliff and fell into a gulf. How they were still alive was tantamount to Altean ingenuity for engineering. She clutched her head with both hands, hating that she had became injured so soon in the mission.

“Are you well?”

The soft masculine voice was both soothing and alarming. She lowered her hands and tried to straighten her back. Standing was out of the question if she didn’t want to end up throwing up on his feet. “I will be.”

“The Horde is coming. You’re in no position to travel.” The voice stated the facts with no trace of panic or concern in his tone.

“Then it’s Plan B?” Bridget muttered.

“I was not aware of a ‘Plan B’.” The voice deadpanned.

“It’s a human phrase. We have to go with another plan.”

“Yes, a more direct plan than we anticipated, but planned for.”

“And the reason I was brought along,” Bridget said rubbing her temples to think clearly. “Though, I expected that if diplomacy was needed, it would be as their guests, not as prisoners.”

“I’ve been with the Blades of Marmora for nearly four centuries and I’ve yet to see a mission go according to plan.”

“I . . . I have some ideas on how to increase the odds of success for this mission,” Bridget said slowly.

“I’m listening.”

***

High Commander Ylvick of the Galra Fleet had been gathering power in the Delta 26 region of the Yandra Galaxy. Colonial outposts had been set up in other solar systems on uninhabited planets. Then, Etheria, a planet sporting several moons were discovered with sentient life. Not only was the planet's inhabitants advanced enough to form civilizations, but it was engaged in a planet-wide war between a militaristic Horde and an alliance of smaller kingdoms.

After several incursions, the Galra Commander discovered that despite their outdated technology, the Horde could defend their territory and the Princess Alliance was able to hold their own against the Imperial forces. So High Commander Ylvick did something that was quite unGalra like of him. He approached Lord Hordak to form an alliance. If Ylvick can get the Horde’s backing, their combined forces would demolish the Princess Alliance and seize a strong foothold in the section of space.

In response, the Coalition sent a small team to deal with the Etheria Crisis.

***

When the ship detonated, the explosive cacophony spiked her headache. It felt like someone was drilling a needle behind each of her eyes. By the time the Horde soldiers arrived, her eyes were covered and useless. Eva sat close beside her dressed in an Altean attendant uniform. It was similar to Coran's uniform, blue with a gold triangular mark down the center. It was brought along in case of Plan B.

There were shouts of don’t move and Bridget could hear the click of guns aimed at them. Eva called back, “Don’t shoot! We surrender! My mistress was injured in the crash!”

Bandages criss-cross her eyes, blinding her, but not her other senses. She heard the hum of skiffs as they came to a halt, the crunch of boots on rock and dirt, and guns powering down. Hands seized her arms and hefted her onto her feet. Cuffs locked around her wrists and she was marched several yards before being lifted onto a metal surface and shoved onto her knees. She heard Eva grunt as she received the same treatment and she could smell her perfume over the noxious fumes of the burning ship.

Only Eva would wear Chanel perfume on a mission.

***

“What happens when they come for us?” Eva was wrapping up her eyes, crisscrossing them over the bridge her nose and brow.

“You want me to sugar coat it?”

“No, give it to me straight as a razor blade.”

Bridget sighed, wishing Eva had stayed behind. “If we’re lucky, we’ll only be interrogated. If we’re unlucky, we’ll be beaten and raped and left to die in a cell if they don’t outright shoot us dead.”

“Cheery.”

***

So far, there has been no beating or raping and they were still alive. It's a good sign they valued as alive and unharmed. Bridget listened to the wind whipping the sails of skiffs as they crossed the miles of desert into the Fright Zone. Soon the smell of sand and dry air was replaced with machine oil and pollution. The desert faded back to industry and metal.

Eva leaned against her and in a show of cowering, she pressed her hand to Bridget’s arm. With a finger, she traced numbers into her forearm. Blindfolded, her sense of touch sharpen and she could easily read her tracings: 30 miles, west.

So they had crashed 30 miles east of the Fright Zone and roughly twenty miles west of the Whispering Wood. How different would this mission have been if they crashed there? 30 miles. That was a lot of land to cover for the other half of their team on foot. It’ll take them at least a day if nothing happens. So they’re on their own until then.

Bridget sent up a small prayer. Dear God, look after Eva and me while we go into the belly of the beast, but also look after Kolivan and Keith. Put Your guiding hand over them, Lord, as I know You will do for us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For updates and news about my works, follow me on Tumblr and Twitter: RebelCourtesan


	2. Chapter 2

They were treated with rough impatience, but not brutally. They were forced along, but not shoved or kicked. Hands were braced on her arms and shoulders, almost carrying her along. Eva made disparaging comments about their treatment and until she was cuffed and threatened. A door screeched opened and stagnant air blew across her face.

Bridget yelped when she was shoved against a wall. Her wrists were lifted and shackled above her head. Her legs were kicked apart and ankles were shoved into shackles on the floor. She was no stranger to being restrained, but that didn’t mean it unnerved her any less than it did the first time. Eva being her obstinate self said she preferred to have dinner before any bedroom antics. There was a loud thump beside her. Bridget suspected it was Eva being shoved with unnecessary force against the wall next to her.

In French, she said, “Eva, be quiet.”

“Shut up!” There was a sharp poke in her ribs with a hard baton like object. Thank God, it wasn’t a Galra hotstick or she’d be crawling up the wall despite the shackles.

The door opened and closed as the soldiers left them alone. Again in French, Bridget asked if they were alone.

“Yes, for now,” Eva replied in back in fluent French. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, but for God’s sake don’t antagonize them. If they were Galra they would have taken your head off or taken you up on your bedroom offer.”

“I didn’t get that feeling from them. Some of them were younger than my own students.”

“You saw their faces?”

“They were wearing helmets, but they were short and small.”

“So are a lot of alien races.”

Eva took some time to think before she said, “They didn’t move with confidence. They’re inexperienced and some of them were overcompensating because they’re insecure. Trust me on this, some of them were teenagers, maybe even younger.”

So that confirmed the intelligence of the Horde was using child soldiers to swell their ranks. Was it because the Horde was losing more soldiers than they can replace? Or did Lord Hordak believe in using overwhelming force to win his war? It could be a form of indoctrination, to mold young minds before they could have a chance to think for themselves. It may be they were jumping to conclusions. The more experienced soldiers could be fighting at the front near the Whispering Woods and they sent cadets to investigate a crashed ship.

“How long do you they’ll make us wait?”

“They’ll want us to sweat for a while. So I’m guessing an hour or so?”

“Cheery.”

***

Keith activated the masks scope and peered at the outer edges of the Fright Zone. “I don’t see any patrols.”

“Then they have other means of security,” Kolivan said from below. He stood at the edge of an outcropping examining a topographic map. He pointed at a canyon that led into the heart of the city. “This is our way in.”

Keith deactivated the scope and hopped down several rock outcroppings. He landed easily beside Kolivan and stared off into the distance. “We don’t know what’s in that chasm.”

“It’s the most direct route,” Kolivan said. “And time is not on our side.”

Watching Bridget and Eva being taken away hadn’t been easy. Both women agreed to the plan, in fact, both of them insisted it was the best way to complete the mission.

This is why I was brought along. It's only a matter of time before we approached the Horde anyway. Maybe they’ll be willing to negotiate if they believe they have the upper hand.

Walsh might be right, but there too much risk involved. They couldn’t predict how the Horde handle prisoners if they didn’t outright execute them. The thought of them already dead made him uncomfortable. What would Shiro say if he came back without Bridget?

Bridget's husband had died in the year after the Galra invaded Earth. On that same day, Bridget had been arrested and enslaved. In the year she was gone, her son had been raised by her elderly father and Eva Hayes, her childhood friend. While serving the Empire, she met Shiro and they had escaped and gone into hiding together. Once they were found, they both joined the Coalition. Shiro became the Black Paladin of Voltron and Bridget trained under the Blade of Marmora's top instructor, Antok. They still maintain a close relationship by calling each other often and visiting whenever they were in the same system.

Sometimes Keith was jealous of how close they were.

Kolivan drew a dust-colored cloak around his shoulders and drew his hood over his ears. “We should make it by dusk.”

Keith donned his hood and cloak and followed.

***

It was less than an hour before someone came. The door opened and two sets of footsteps came inside. The clang of heavy boots and the pit-pats of soft feet.

“It’s a scorpion woman and a cat girl. Now I’ve seen everything.” Eva said dryly in French.

“Just like we practiced,” Bridget replied smoothly.

“Hey! Quiet with that alien talk!” a young girl’s voice demanded.

“Awww, but I think it’s cute,” a warm bubbly voice said.

“Scorpia, don’t gush over the prisoners,” the girl snapped. “We’re supposed to be interrogating them.”

“Sorry,” the woman quickly apologized, though didn’t lose much of her amusement.

Eva cleared her throat and said in the Etherian, “My name is Eva Hayes. I am the attendant of Representative Bridget Walsh of the Voltron Coalition. She will only speak with Lord Hordak and no one else.”

“So you’re from the Coalition,” the girl said triumphantly. “So now we’re getting some answers!”

“Uh, Catra, we didn’t really ask them any questions,” Scorpia, the bubbly woman, said in a gentle tone. “She kinda went ahead and told us.”

Bristling, the girl said, “Just stand over there and don’t say anything.”

“Alright!” Scorpia said unoffended.

Recovering, the girl walked before them back and forth, bare feet patting the metal floor. “Why are members from the Coalition here?”

“Representative Bridget Walsh will only speak with Lord Hordak.”

“And can’t ‘Representative Bridget Walsh’ speak for herself?”

Bridget stayed silent and did not react when she heard her name. It was Eva who spoke, “The Representative’s translator was broken in the crash. She can hear you, but she cannot understand anything you say. I can translate, but she will only speak with Lord Hordak.”

“And what’s wrong with her eyes?” Bridget could sense a presence in front of her and a hand passing back and forth near her face.

“Unfortunately, she was looking directly at the ship when it exploded. It damaged her eyesight.”

Blind people were considered a non-threat. Even more so if they were deaf or unable to understand what was said around them. They were underestimated, ignored, and overlooked which was perfect for spy work. She underwent training through hours of simulations with different unpredictable scenarios. Antok provided the motivation for success by berating her whenever she failed.

You _think the world disappears when you close your eyes? Listen, smell, taste, feel, and use your intuition to tell you about the world around you._

Even now, she could hear him in her ear demanding answers.

_What do you hear?_

I hear the distant song of metal creaking and movement beyond this room. People either patrolling or going about their day. I can hear that Scorpia is different. There’s a strange clicking sound when she moves, but she’s larger than Catra because the girl doesn’t make as much noise.

_What do you smell?_

Gasoline fumes and oil. The Horde uses combustible fuel to power their machines. And I smell Eva’s perfume, Chanel of all things.

_What do you taste?_

Nothing. No, I can taste the desert and earth. We’re underground.

_What do you feel?_

Other than my injuries from the crash, cold air blowing across my legs. There’s a vent close to the floor. Maybe big enough to crawl through.

_What does your intuition tell you?_

Based on everything that happened, our arrival has come as a bit of a surprise for the Horde. They don't know what to do with us. Since they haven’t turned us over to the Galra, I doubt High Commander Ylvick knows about us. We’re being kept in an underground cell and I bet our arrival isn’t public knowledge. If we need to escape, there’s a vent we can use, but I don’t think we need it yet.

There was a sudden jab in her ribs. Startled, she hissed, _“Bordel de merde!”_

“Pay attention when I’m talking to you!”

“She can’t understand you! Her communicator is broken!”

“Then give her yours!”

“I can’t! It’s surgically implanted behind my ear. And before you suggest that one of your butchers cut it out and put in her you should know that that won’t work.”

The communicator was of Olkari tech. It was both machine and living tissue that grafted to the user’s flesh. It attached itself between the ear and brain, instantly translating any spoken language that the user heard. Removing the device would kill it and render it useless. Most of the humans who have joined the Coalition have the communicators implanted. Bridging the language barrier was crucial in forming the Coalition. During her time as a slave, Bridget received an injection of nanites into her brainstem which made her an intergalactic polyglot. A little unwanted gift from the Galra.

“Ooohhh, how does it work?”

The new voice was echoy, as if speaking from a tunnel. It was actually coming from the vent.

“Entrapta, get out of here! You’re supposed to be studying the ship,”

“I did, but it’s all melted metal,” the voice said so sadly one would think she was speaking about a dying friend. “The metal breaks apart as if it’s still burning. I can’t go near it without singeing my hair.”

There was a squeak of hinges and a bang. Then Bridget heard soughings like cloth sliding over metal or plastic. What was that?

“Are these the aliens? They look normal.” There was a click. “Alien Encounter, Log 4. I’m in the presence of two alien females, one with black hair and other has red curly hair. Black hair is wearing a blue and white uniform which resembles a servant’s garb. The red hair one is wearing a black spacesuit made of a meshy material. Shock absorbers? Or armor?”

Something fluttered about her body touching the arms and legs of her suit. Whatever was touching her didn’t have the solidity of hands nor robotic appendages. It was something softer, almost fluid.

Catra was getting exasperated with her interrogation being ruined by her cohorts. “Entrapta, stop manhandling the prisoners and Scorpia take this seriously or get out.”

Eva was also getting weary of this interrogation. “Kid, we can give you the numbers to send a secure message to the Coalition so you can verify our identities. If you want any more than that, then you’ll have to arrange an audience between Rep. Bridget Walsh and Lord Hordak.”

There was a long silence and Bridget counted the beats of her heart. Now was the time, if this mission was to go very badly for them. She could almost hear the girl considering Eva’s words and weighing her options.

“Scorpia, get the channel and verify their IDs. Entrapta, go back to your lab and build something.”

“Awww, but I have so many questions! How do their ships fly? What are their suits made out of? How much power does it take to break the atmosphere? What fuels it?” The questions drifted away as someone was bodily dragged out.

The door opened and there was a silent pause instead of the door closing. “You better hope your information pans out. If it doesn't make Lord Hordak happy, then I’ll come back here and . . .”

“Yeah, we know. Shite rolls downhill,” Eva dismissed her. “Go deliver our message to your master, kitty.”

There was a hiss that ended in a deep-throated growl and the door closed and they were alone. Bridget counted to nearly a hundred seconds before she said in French, “Tell me about them.”

“Catra looks to be either fifteen or sixteen. Straight up cat girl with ears and tail. Stands little over five feet and wearing red leotard and tights with no shoes. She has claws on hands and feet.” Eva reported carefully, recalling everything she saw from memory. “Scopia seems nice, but dear Lord, she has a frickin’ scorpion tail as long as she is tall and I don’t think it’s only for show. She has scorpion claws too. I wonder how she gets dressed . . .and the last girl has very long purple hair that she can use like extra hands.”

So that was what Bridget had felt feeling her suit. With a nod, she said, “How would you assess them?”

“The scorpion woman seems the eldest and most experience. If it wasn’t for her bubbly smile, I’d dare say she wouldn’t be something I’d want to meet in an alley. Catgirl may be smaller and inexperienced, but I think she can still tear you up if she wants to. Purple hair girl doesn’t seem like a combatant, but I can easily imagine her strangling someone with her hair if she had to.”

“Hopefully we won’t have to fight them to get out of here,” Bridget said.

“If it comes to it, the cat girl is mine. As your father would say, I’d give her the thrashing her daddy should have given her,” Eva growled in a thick Irish accent.

Bridget shifted as much as she could in her bonds. “I hope I don’t have to use the bathroom soon.”

“Oh God, please don’t mention it. If you do, then I’ll have to go before too long.”

Bridget nearly asked Eva how she thought Keith and Kolivan were doing but stopped herself. Hopefully, the Horde suspects there was only the two of them, not four. Even if they couldn’t understand them, it still felt too risky to bring them up in conversation. Doubtless, the room was bugged or they were being watched by hidden cameras.

“Your dad is never going to get used to you being a fighter.”

Surprised, Bridget raised her head despite her blindness. “What do you mean?”

“Bridget, the last time he saw you, you were a girl. True, you were a grown woman with a husband and child, but you were still a little girl to him. Hell, you still wore pink sweaters and cute jeans with sneakers. Even though we got you back, the old Bridget never returned.”

Bridget would have sagged in her bonds, but they held her upright. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to change so much.”

“Don’t apologize. You can’t go through that kinda hell without it changing you. I’m just glad that it didn’t . . . change you too much. That you’re still you, but different. I’ve managed to wrap my head around that you can literally kick a Galra’s ass without breaking a sweat. But your dad can’t. He thinks you’re being stubborn, which you are, but not in the way he believes.”

No, Dad would never understand that the little girl he raised had perished the same day as her husband. She never told her father what had been done to her, but she knew he suspected. He refused to talk about it, referring to her enslavement as the ‘time she was away’. He knew she had suffered, but she didn’t dare tell him how she had suffered. If he knew, then he would kill every Galra he saw, even the Blades of Marmora.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For updates and news about my works, follow me on Tumblr and Twitter: RebelCourtesan


	3. Chapter 3

They should have known it wasn’t going to be as easy as they had thought.

Ten miles from the Fright Zone, they came across a caravan of travelers who maintained fragile neutrality between the Horde and Rebels. They made their living trading between the two sides and in constant travel. Keith noticed their campfires in the distance. After observing them for half a day, they deemed them safe to approach. Kolivan approached their camp alone while Keith looked on from a distance. The travelers drew their weapons and once they ascertained he meant no harm they warmly welcomed him.

The caravan consisted of different races, some humanlike and others that had animal-like features such as horns, fur, tails, or even wings. The leader, Bandy, was a tall human man in a long green robe. He might have once led a circus troupe from the way he waved his hands in grandiose gestures as he spoke. His voice was deep and carried well over the crackling fire and voices. He personally made sure Keith and Kolivan had a fair share of the stew and refused any payment.

“If guests paid for their meals, then we would be a restaurant and not travelers,” Bandy said jovially. He was sitting on a short barrel as if it were a grand armchair. He held his hands to the fire, mindful to keep his long sleeves from draping in the flames, and rubbed them together. “Where are you headed, travelers? If it’s none of my business, say so, and no offense will be taken.”

“We’re actually on our way to the Fright Zone,” Keith said after sampling the stew. He didn’t recognize any of the meat or vegetables, but the sweet broth was appetizing.

Bandy wrinkled his brow for only a second, but his eyes remained friendly. “Do you seek to join the Horde?”

Keith shook his head, “No, but we have business there.”

“Sadly, your business will have to wait. Lord Hordak had ordered all borders closed off. No one can get in or out unless they have a special writ.”

Keith nodded and ate his stew, minutely exchanging a look with Kolivan. The Galra held his bowl cupped in one hand and ate mechanically while listening. He set his spoon in the bowl and lowered it across one knee to lean forward. “We have business that cannot wait. Is there a way to circumvent the blockade?”

Bandy was quiet for a long moment, his dark eyes shooting between them. The travelers spoke and laughed merrily around their own fires well away from their fire. “I’m not sure I understand you, dear sir. A blockade is a blockade and Lord Hordak’s rule is absolute. Your business will have to wait.”

Kolivan nodded and resumed eating. “Very well. Let us speak of other things.”

Keith looked between the two men and understood something had passed between them. He trusted Kolivan to take the lead, almost as much as he trusted Shiro. He finished his meal and drained the tin cup of water. He was impressed by the generosity of the caravan, especially since they were living on the border of a war.

When he commented on it, Bandy waved his hand as if presenting a performer before an audience. “The fighting is at the edge of the Whispering Woods. As long as we give that area it’s space and pay our dues to the Horde patrols, we’re left alone. The only dangers we face are bandits and wild animals.”

The passing moons marked the passage of time. It had been almost twenty hours since he last slept. His eyes were growing heavy and it was a struggle not to yawn. Bandy was going on about the history of his caravan. They were all people who lost their homes due to the Horde. Most of them were what remained of broken families. They reminded Keith of planets Voltron had liberated from the Galra. Most of them were people who have never known peace and all had lost a loved one to violence or cruelty.

Seeing the happy faces, despite a war, was a comfort he wasn’t expecting to find. Mothers ushered their children into wagons, friends bid each other good night, and lovers went hand in hand to their shelters. Kolivan was speaking in a hushed voice with Bandy and they both rose and moved away from the wagons. Keith rose to follow, but Kolivan motioned for him to stay. He huddled in his cloak and waited with a watchful eye.

It was ten minutes later before the Galra returned. He stood and followed Kolivan to several yards away from Bandy’s wagon. Once they were well out of earshot, Kolivan spoke.

“Bandy knows of smugglers that can get us inside.”

“How much did it cost to get that from him?”

“They want us to serve as protection until they reached the outer edge of Horde territory. Bandy will arrange an introduction with a man he knows.”

Keith furrowed his brow. “It’ll take a day longer than planned.”

“True, but if Bandy’s man is as well a smuggler as he claims he is, then we can get into the Fright Zone quietly.”

So Bridget and Eva would be at the mercy of the Horde for two days? It made him ill at ease and he thought back to the last time he saw Shiro.

***

_“It’ll be dangerous,” Shiro said, looking over a planetary map of Etheria. “We know very little about the planet or this Horde.”_

_Keith had been sharpening his knife on the whetstone. “That’s why a small team is going.”_

_“I know. Bridget told me about it.”_

_Keith looked up, pausing in his swipe of the knife across the stone. “The mission is confidential. She wasn’t supposed to . . .”_

_Shiro held up a hand to halt him. “I was consulted for the mission planning so I already know who’s on it.”_

_Did that explain why Bridget was involved? And her friend? Keith resumed sharpening his knife. “Do you want me to look after her? Is that why you want to talk about it?”_

_“No, she can take care of herself. She’s come a long way, but tends to take on more than she can handle.”_

_Bridget had been the backbone of dialogue with some of the Galra Commanders. She was able to get through to them when negotiations had failed repeatedly. It was thanks to her they had turned over territory and resources to the Coalition without a fired shot. Some actually defected to the Coalition._

_One would think that made her a pacifist, but it was quite the opposite. When the Galra weren’t willing to listen to what she had to say, she was the one who would take the first shot. With over a dozen missions under her belt and skills of diplomacy, she was selected for the Etheria mission._

_Satisfied with the sharpen blade, Keith sheathed it and put away the whetstone. “I’ll look after her.”_

***

And she was a captive of a militaristic group that was known throughout Etheria as the Evil Horde. What would Shiro say now?

They took turns keeping watch for dangers outside and inside the caravan. Bandy seemed friendly enough, but more than once in Keith’s career, he had seen a friend smile hide a knife.

***

“Bridget, are you awake?”

How could she sleep? Her back was killing her and anytime she let the shackles bear her weight they dug into her wrists. She could doze off for a moment or two before the pain brought her back.

“Yeah?”

“They’re coming.”

There was noise, distant, muffled through metal walls. If she could, she would have straightened, but her body had tired from maintaining an immobile position for so long. The door opened and she heard the sound of something with wheels rolling across the floor. The room became cooler, no, not cooler, darker somehow. Like cold hands were covering her face instead of bandages.

Something dangerous had entered the room. It was the familiar feeling she had whenever a dangerous Galra came near. She swallowed and dipped her chin a bit. She didn’t want to seem defiant, but nor did she wish to appear meek either.

“They have a wheelchair,” Eva whispered in French. “And there’s a woman -”

“That will be enough of that,” an oily dark voice said.

Something crackled in the air, sparking across her skin and made all the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Eva uttered a noise that was instantly cut off and there was silence.

“Eva?” Bridget whispered as her shackles were undone.

“Your friend is still alive,” the deep voice purred. “She’s just being quiet for now.”

She was taken from the wall and set in a wheelchair. It was solid with a high back. Her wrists were bound to the arms and her legs were cuffed to the footrests. The wheelchair was pulled backward and turned around making almost nauseous.

 _“Qu'as-_ tu fait _à Eva?”_ Bridget asked. She could switch to Etherian, but somewhere out there in the Universe, her instructor, Antok, would sense she compromised a mission. And he would make her pay for it later whether she survived this mission or not.

Knowledge or Death.

Victory or Death.

That was the Galra way. Succeed or don’t come back. The mission came first, nothing else mattered.

But Eva did matter. She came on this mission because of her. If she died, this it was because of her. Just like her husband dying was because of her . . .

There was choke and Eva croaked in French. “ _Je_ vais bien _.”_

She released the tight grip she had on the armrests. Eva’s shackles were released and her footsteps shuffling close.

Hands touched her face, unraveling the bandages. Cool air touched her brow and eyelids. Her chin was cupped and tilted up and light flared across her vision. Her eyes blinked uselessly, the glare sending sparks of pain through her skull.

“She’s blind. Her pupils aren’t responding to light. It's too soon to tell if it's temporary or permanent damage.”

“How unfortunate,” the deep feminine voice croon. “I’m certain Lord Hordak will allow our physicians to tend to your eyes. If he’s pleased with what you have to offer.”

Bridget kept her face blank, unresponsive. Before they parted, Kolivan produced a medicine that caused temporary blindness. It was originally meant to be used on captives to make escape difficult or in this case, aid a disguise.

The wheelchair began moving forward. Bridget’s heart began racing and she took three slow breaths to ease her anxiety. She had been in worse situations than this. Far worse.

“Where are you taking us?” demanded Eva. Bridget was proud of her for keeping her voice free of fear or agitation. She was being haughty, like a servant of a Lady.

She wanted to tell Eva not to overdo it, but she had to trust her friend knew what she was doing. They only had one chance to sell this and if Hordak didn’t buy it, then the mission may fail.

The deep voice’s crawled over Bridget’s skin as it said in a pleased tone. “Why, we’re granting your request. We’re taking you for an audience with Lord Hordak.”

It was what they had wanted, but they were getting it for too soon and too easily. She had expected them to attempt another interrogation or threaten to sell them out to the Galra. It might be that Hordak was an impatient and hands-on man. She could be reading too much into this, but something warned her to take caution. She paid attention to the movement of the wheelchair. Each time it took a right or left, she logged into her memory. She listened for whenever a door opened and closed and if the sounds of footsteps on the floor changed.

Then the wheelchair was brought to a sudden stop and doors hissed as they were slid open. Large doors, old, but well oiled. The door was ancient but cared for.

The wheelchair rolled forward.

“Wait, I have to go with her . . .” Eva started.

“There’s no need,” the woman said in a voice as sweet as poisoned honey. “Take her a cell in B-Block.”

Bridget’s heart pounded, but she maintained a calm demeanor. Now was not the time to panic or worry. This may be a fear tactic to shake them up, making them panic and careless. She gripped the ends of the armrests and forced her fears away. A clear mind would serve her better than fear.

The air was cooler now. There was a smell of steel and other metals. It smelt like a workshop but had an oily scent that reminded her of blood. Whirrs and clicks were distant, but all around her. Whoever was pushing the chair shifted the grip and it jolted once, twice, and a third time. She was being pushed up steps. She counted thirteen steps before it smooth out and the pusher sighed in relief.

A cold presence was nearby. Her back straightened and she gathered herself together. She knew he was there before he spoke. She thought herself prepared. She wasn’t.

 _“J'espère_ que _ton arrivée_ a été _agréable.”_ A deep smooth voice, like oil dripping over metal, rolled the near fluent French words.

Her carefully prepared mien shattered, her mouth dropped open and her face lost its color. How did he know French? When did he learn it?

They had been fools. Since Etheria was isolated with primitive technology compared to theirs, they had believed the Horde had no way of accessing offworld information. Hordak's meager dossier stated he had a technological mind. Did that mean he had extensive language skills? Did he learn it from listening to them? They had spoken in French to pass the time in the cell, believing they would not be understood if they were recorded. What did they talk about? Nothing sensitive about the rebels, but they did speak of her father and son.

A cold hand seized her heart and she felt sick before logic calmed her. Her father and son were on Earth, in a galaxy nearly on the other side of the Universe. The Horde had no means of space travel and Earth was protected by the Coalition. Not to mention her fierce ex-mobster and boxer father would tear apart anyone who tried to harm them. They were safe. Safe.

Hordak had perforated her deception so there was no need to maintain it. Thank God, her blindness had been validated with Kolivan’s eye drops.

“We were given a warm welcomed,” Bridget said in perfect Etherian. She leaned back in the wheelchair as if it were a vintage armchair, despite being bound to it. If her legs were free, she would have crossed them, but she got the message across all the same.

There was a slight stir, a motion of surprise that was quelled as soon as it appeared.

“So we’re to drop the facade?” Hordak said with a slight amusement edging his words. “Very well, let’s cut to the heart of the matter. The Coalition sent you to my planet. Why?”

“The Galra were here. How could we not take notice of that?”

“You were sent to assassinate me?”

Footsteps. He was walking towards and then around her. Not far, but safely out of reach. He didn’t fear her, but he did not chance underestimating her despite being blind and bound.

“No. We do not wish to harm you. Our enemy is the Galra. Not the Horde.”

“Yet, your ship trespassed in Horde airspace. Cloaked and silent like an assassin.”

Was he being paranoid? There was very little information in the dossier about his psychology. Many despots feared assassination. Save for Zarkon who was quite difficult to kill as the Voltron Team has learned time and time again.

“We were observing. Making sure that the Galra hasn’t taken over the Horde before we made contact. We would have requested landing once we ascertained the Horde remained independent.”

“She’s lying, Lord Hordak,” the deep feminine voice groused. “They clearly came to spy on the Horde. If you will allow me to properly interrogate her . . .”

“Did your subordinates not interrogate her earlier?”

“My Lord, Catra is a disappointment and it is no surprise that she failed in a simple interrogation.”

“And since she’s your subordinate, her failure is your failure also.”

There was a beat of silence. There was an air of discomfort behind her and Bridget logged this exchange into her memory. It seemed there was some turmoil happening in the Horde’s ranks. A minor miffed between them? Or a clue of a myriad of struggles?

“There’s no need to interrogate me. Ask your questions and I will answer truthfully.”

The echo of footsteps thrummed in her ears until they stopped in front of her. “How many were on your ship?”

“Four.”

“Where are the others?”

“I don’t know. I was knocked unconscious during the crash and they must have fled when the Horde came. I was unable to follow and Eva stayed with me.”

Antok’s voice reverberated in her head. A good lie is one that smells of truth. Seed your answers with truth and leave unsaid that which will endanger the mission.

“Are they humans too?”

“They are members of the Blade of Marmora.”

“Are they not assassins?” The woman demanded, edging into the interrogation.

“The Blades have carried out assassinations,” Bridget admitted. “However, those were rare instances and only on high ranking Galra. They were with me to gather intel on High Commander Ylvick's forces. Harming you is not our mission.”

“Then what is your mission?” There was a slight movement. A shuffle of feet or the brush of cloth? She couldn’t be sure what it was.

“To warn you against allying with the Galra.”

There was a chirrup and a whisper of cloth against metal. “To warn me that the Coalition will attack if the Horde should ally with the Galra?”

Bridget shook her head, “Again, we have no desire to harm the Horde. We have no interests in this planet save for Galra influence. When the Galra leave this planet, our scrutiny goes with them.”

There was a rhythmic tap-tap-tap on metal. She recognized that sound of claw tips tapping on an armrest. “The Coalition believes in the freedom of all sapient beings? They stand against tyranny?”

Bridget rubbed her thumbs over her fingertips in an unconscious motion of determination. This is where she really had to sell it. “The Coalition is made up of planets enslaved by the Galra for thousands of years. My planet is included among them.”

“So you’re part of a rebellion,” Hordak mused. “Like the Princess Alliance and Bright Moon.”

“We have made no contact with them nor do we seek to do so.”

“She is lying, my Lord . . .”

“Be silent, Shadow Weaver,” Hordak snapped with the sharpness of a razor. To Bridget, it was cool as a shard of ice. “Why not ally your Coalition forces with Bright Moon?”

“There is nothing to gain from Bright Moon,” Bridget said bluntly. “They have very little resources and are not capable of space flight. Nor can they call the Galra their enemy. To ally with them would require the Coalition to go to war with the Horde. That would ensure your alliance with the Galra. In short, an alliance with Bright Moon would be too costly for the Coalition.”

There was a long contemplative silence. “If I turn away the Galra, then what do I benefit?”

“You gain nothing,” Bridget said with a slight shrug. “But you lose nothing. You continue your war with Bright Moon and the Coalition with will fight its war with the Galra.”

“And if I should ally with the Galra?”

Bridget tilted her head, red curls falling across her bandaged eyes. “Then the Coalition will see the Horde as no different than the Galra. We will bring our war to your doorstep and you will lose that war. Your loss will be Bright Moon’s gain.”

“You dare!?” Shadow Weaver cried. “You dare threaten the Horde!?”

Despite her eyes blind and covered in bandages, she could see the world darken. A chill swept over her body and finger of fear stroked her heart. Did she overdo it?

“Lord Hordak, let me show this woman the error of her ways. Let me send what’s left of her back to the Coalition to show them what happens to upstarts . . .”

“Shadow Weaver, arrange for Bridget Walsh to a room in C-block and an attendant to see to her needs.”

“My Lord?” Shadow Weaver’s voice deflated into disbelief. “You can’t consider . . .”

“Do not tell me what I can or cannot do,” Hordak rasped. “Bridget Walsh has given me much to consider. Until I say otherwise, she is a guest of the Horde.”

There was a long pause, but the response was as it should be. “As you wish, my Lord.”

“What of my attendant, Eva Hayes?” Bridget spoke up as the wheelchair turned. It stopped before completing the turn.

“She will be cared for elsewhere.”

“I see,” Bridget said as she was wheeled away.

As she was carefully lowered down each step, her mind raced. This has gone better than she had dared hope. But then, looks could be deceiving. Being ‘taken care of’ could mean being killed. No, that wasn’t the feeling she was getting from the exchange between Shadow Weaver and Hordak.

Shadow Weaver: the second in command of the Horde. Seemed there was trouble in paradise between the two. Could she use this as an advantage? Or would this cause problems later?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For updates and news about my works, follow me on Tumblr and Twitter: RebelCourtesan


	4. Chapter 4

He was woken by the warm smell of hot coffee. He raised his head to see the broad back of Kolivan sitting by the dying embers of their campfire. A tin mug nestled between his large hands with steam rising from it. Keith rose and rolled up his bedroll. Training and years of camping had taught him how to efficiently make and break camp. He tied the bedroll to his gear and noticed that Kolivan wasn’t sitting alone.

It was a girl, possibly thirteen or fourteen wearing traveling clothes. She wore thick boots that looked clunky on her thin legs. Her cherry blonde hair was pulled back into a tail of curls with a black ribbed which ended in white beads that clicked as she turned her head towards him. She had a piece of dried meat bobbing from her mouth as she chewed.

She thrust a hand at him in greet. ‘H’lo, I’m Mind. Da said you’ll be traveling with us for a bit.”

Keith stared at the offered hand for a beat before taking it in a quick shake. “Until we reach Horde territory.”

“You plan on enlisting?” Mind asked, regarding Keith curiously. “Tempted by a bed and three meals a day?”

“Uh, no,” Keith replied. Was the Horde low on food and space for its citizens? It would make sense to join the military for special privileges and amenities.

The girl shrugged and poked at the fire with a stick. “Well, the Horde will be disappointed. You look like someone they would love to join their forces.”

Kolivan held out a plate and a mug to Keith. “Eat quickly. The caravan leaves within the hour.”

Three dry bacon strips and a square of cheese, a meager meal, but Keith had sustained himself on less. He tore into the bacon and devoured the cheese and drained the mug in three gulps. Mind stared at him in amazement as he handed back the now cleaned plate and empty mug.

“Wow! It wasn’t going to run away,” Mind commented playfully.

Keith shrugged. “Where I come from, you have to eat fast or you won’t have time to eat at all.”

***

Being blind was an odd sensation. Her other senses were heightened, not just her hearing. She could the salt on the food and smell the wine the attendant poured for her. The room temperature was warm, well insulated, a big change from the dungeon and throne room. The room was sealed with no vents. There was a beep shortly before she heard the hiss of doors opening and closing. Was he using a card key or handprint?

If there was an electronic panel, then it can be bypassed or hacked. Unfortunately, hacking computers and bypassing locks wasn’t her strong suit. Too bad she didn’t have Pidge around. The girl only had to look at a program to hack it. No, she was thinking too far ahead. She wasn’t ready to escape from this room yet. That time may not come for a while yet. She had to focus on what she needed to do now which was wait and learn.

Her attendant was nervous. The tray of food rattled on the table as it was set down. The wine almost sloshed in the cup as it was poured. Was he nervous because of her or just in general?

Likely he was nervous because he was ordered to report anything she said to his superior. Which one? Shadow Weaver or Hordak, she wondered. No, they would have gotten someone more experience. This kid was too low on the totem pole. Catra, perhaps?

Compile what you have learned during downtime. You can find new information or an advantage by understanding what you have learned.

Shadow Weaver and Hordak don’t trust each other. There’s a lot of push and pull between the leader and the second in command. Shadow Weaver kept trying to take control of the meeting and Hordak seized it back each time she did it. Shadow Weaver wants power and Hordak is aware his second in command is power hungry. So he uses humiliation and threats to keep her in line.

That clash in leadership has got to have an effect on the subordinates. Still a hypothetically, but that may explain how Catra was able to sneak in her own man to spy on her. Bridget wouldn’t call herself an expert on tyrants or despots, but she knew Zarkon would have never tolerated a Haggar who tried to take control of the Empire from him. Which leads to another question. Hordak’s dossier dictated he was highly intelligent, more so than Zarkon, so why did he tolerate Shadow Weaver’s insubordination? Because there was something Shadow Weaver can do that no one else can? Or perhaps she brings something to the Horde’s side that will disappear if he should do away with her?

She filed this away for later consideration. That was all the info she gained from her audience with Hordak and if there’s another, she would learn more. Now let’s learn something about the Horde itself.

Her attendant was gathering her now clean plate and empty glass. Casually, she touched the hand before it could take away the plate. “Thank you for helping me. It must be a lot of trouble to help a blind woman.”

The attendant jumped, snatching back his head, (the yelp sounded like a boy’s voice). “Uh, it’s n-no problem.”

Nervous and young. “What’s your name?”

“Kyle, uh, miss, I mean ma’am.”

Was he nervous because of her or was he just a nervous person? “How long have you been with the Horde?”

“Since I was little - I don’t think we’re supposed to talk about me.”

“We’re supposed to talk about me?” Bridget’s eyebrows rose beneath the bandages in a show of surprise.

“No! I mean, yes? I don’t know . . .” Kyle’s voice was on the edge of panic.

He’s oddly nervous for someone who grew up in the military. He certainly wouldn’t pass muster as a Galra cadet. “What do you want to know about me?”

“Wha. . .?”

Dear Lord, I blew his mind. Maintaining a warm smile, Bridget said gently, “If you want to ask me questions, I’ll answer them. I have nothing to hide.”

There was a beat of silence. “Are you trying to trick me?”

Bridget shook her head. “Not at all. I’m guest, not a prisoner. Lord Hordak said so himself. I was raised in Liverpool, England where I attended St. Margaret’s school for girls. After I graduated, I attended University in Limerick, Ireland where I met my husband . . . ” Even talking about Devin, after so long, brought a pang to her heart.

She talked about her father, her job at the restaurant, marrying Devin, and then the Galra invasion. Was the kid listening to everything she said or was he getting bored? Hell, for all she knew, he probably walked out in the middle of her story. Regardless, she found it cathartic to talk about with someone unbiased about her past. Eva and Dad would have been tearing up and Shiro would be comforting her. That was one thing everyone in the Coalition shared, they all suffered under Galra and the war.

She wouldn’t speak of her time as a slave. No, the particulars of that time she kept close to her heart and not to be shared easily.

“I can’t tell them all this,” a voice broke into her thoughts, almost startling her.

“What?”

“I mean - it’s nice to hear your life story, but this isn’t . . . what Catra wanted . . .”

“Oh, I see,” Bridget said unoffended. “So I suppose you want Coalition intel for Miss Catra to hand up to Lord Hordak?”

Bless him, the kid actually sounded embarrassed when he said, “Yes ma’am?”

“Alright, I understand. Do you think she’ll want information about Voltron?”

There was a sudden intake of breath as Kyle heard the name of the Coalitions superweapon. “Yeah, Voltron.”

Bridget felt the smile spread across her face. “Voltron is a giant robot formed by the combination of five robot lions. It stands well over a 100 meters tall. It has a long sword, about the size of a skyscraper that can cut a Galra warship in half. Voltron is powerful enough to destroy an Imperial station and level a Galra land outpost within minutes. Is that something she would want to know?”

There was another long silence. “Yeah, I - uh - guess so.”

“Well, here’s something else I want her to know. And she can do with it however she pleases. Takashi Shirogane is the name of the Black Paladin of Voltron, better known as Shiro to his friends. He and I are quite close.”

Not another word was said as he left her alone. She was able to find the bed herself and lay down. It was more comfortable than she expected, but then she had proven herself more than a prisoner of war. Maybe it was a mistake to try to intimidate them, but she wanted to them know that the Coalition was not a force to be trifled with. Or at least, believe that.

***

_“The Coalition is stretched thin. Almost too thin.”_

_The coffee maker steamed as it dispensed black liquid into a ceramic mug. She took it and placed it before Shiro. He looked handsome in civvies, wearing jeans and a short sleeve t-shirt. It was the first time she had seen him in anything other than a uniform or armor in a long time._

_Her childhood home had survived the Galra invasion and the Coalition’s liberation. Her father had lived in this house throughout both wars, keeping it safe and whole. When she heard that the Black Lion was seen over London, she knew to expect Shiro. And sure enough, he called her that morning and arrived at their house that afternoon. He shook hands with her father and met an awestruck Connor who hid shyly behind his mother’s legs. She knew Shiro wanted to talk alone and asked her father to take Connor to the movies so they could be alone. Her father acquiesced to her request, but with a raised eyebrow. She told him it wasn’t like that and that Shiro came to see her for a reason._

_Once they were alone, she asked him about the Coalition._

_“The Galra dug their roots in deeper than we ever expected,” Shiro said as he took a cautious sip of his coffee. He added creamer and some sugar and stirred it with a black straw. “We’ve liberated a third of the Galra territory, but the problem isn’t expanding Coalition territory. It’s keeping it liberated.”_

_Bridget gave him a knowing nod. “Galra aren’t willing to forfeit what they believe is theirs.”_

_“It’s not just that,” Shiro admitted. “It’s true, every day the Galra push into our territory. And they have succeeded in some systems. But the problem is that most of the planets believe their part in the fight is over since they've been set free. They don’t see why they should keep fighting in to save other planets when they have homes to rebuild. The Team is doing what it can to protect the borders, but there’s only five of us for every hundred encounters. We can only do so much on our own. And not that’s not even covering all the infighting.”_

_“In fighting?” Bridget blinked surprised. “Between whom?”_

_“Planets within the Coalition territory,” Shiro sighed, with a sad shake of his head. “With the Galra gone, all the old feuds between races and planets have reared their ugly heads. They fight over what territory belong to them before the Galra took over. Some planets have multiple races and they're fighting over who should be their leader. One planet even petitioned the Princess for Voltron to attack their rivals for a damn lake.”_

_“Why?”_

_“It’s some sort of sacred lake that both sides of the planet claim_ belongs _to them. It’s one of the five or six holy wars that brewed up after the liberation. The princess is trying to make them see sense, but being the head of the Coalition puts a lot on her plate.”_

_“But surely Voltron can keep the peace.”_

_Shiro shook his head and sighed. Bridget watched him take a long drink of coffee before slowly setting it down. “We've talked about it and we all agreed that Voltron is meant to protect the Universe, not police it. Where would it end if we did that? And whose side do we choose? Voltron is going to fight only one war and that’s to free the Universe from the Galra. What happens after that will up to the people.”_

_***_

Thus Princess Allura and the leaders of Coalition passed a law against taking sides in any civil war. Thus, even if the Princess Alliance should send a request for aid to the Coalition, it would be denied. The only exception is if one should ally itself with the Galra. If Lord Hordak should ally with High Commander Ylvick, then the Horde would be an enemy of the Coalition.

However, the Coalition was barely able to hold its own against Galra incursion. If Ylvick should establish a stronghold on Etheria, then the Galra would have a stable base of operations to launch attacks against nearby Coalition outposts. Their mission was to prevent Ylvick from succeeding and forcing him away from the border.

However, if the mission failed and Lord Hordak allies the Horde with Ylvick, there isn’t much that can be done about it. Any intervention would be seen as breaking the law or setting a dangerous standard. Thus a small team was sent to deal with the Etheria Crisis quietly. Their main mission was one of diplomacy in convincing Lord Hordak that an alliance with Galra would be a costly mistake. Thus, preventing a need for Coalition forces to turn their already stretched forces to this sector of space.

Bridget was willing to let the Horde believe they risk the ire of Voltron by keeping them prisoner. It would only give her an edge in negotiations.

Though, Shiro would come if he knew we were in danger. Even if he had to come alone in the Black Lion himself to save us, he would come.

But she hoped it wouldn’t come to that. She didn’t want to put Shiro in the position of going against the alliance he had sacrificed so much to build. And most of all, she didn’t want to fail.

Maybe she was still trying to prove to Dad that she can handle herself. Each mission she had played a part in had been successful, though there had been losses and injuries. She wasn’t the frightened woman she had been during the Galra invasion. And she had made a difference to the benefit of Earth and the Coalition.

***

_“I want to help.”_

_Shiro raised his eyes to hers. “You don’t have to. Bridget, your home is here. Your family is here.”_

_“Yes, I had a home and a family once before. It was taken away from me once and it can be taken away again. You said it yourself, the Coalition is struggling to keep the Galra out. I’m not going to sit by and let others do the fighting when I can do my part to help.”_

_“Earth is safe. The Galaxy Garrison now has the technology to fight the Galra.”_

_His hand was on the table, the flesh and blood one. For the briefest moment, she wanted to touch the long fingers and feel the warmth of his skin on her palm. She resolutely kept her hands on her side of the table._

_“I don’t doubt the Garrison’s ability to protect Earth, for now. What will happen to Earth if the Coalition should fall? Or what if Zarkon decides to focus all of the Empire’s Might against Earth? I already lived through an invasion and occupation before and I don’t want to go through it again. At least, not because I sat by and did nothing. I’ll train. I’ll learn how to fight, shoot, or pilot. Whatever is needed of me.”_

_Shiro was quiet for a long time. His eyes were lowered, distant and thoughtful. “I came to Earth to meet with friends, but mostly to see you. There is something you can do for the Coalition, but I am very hesitant to approach you with this.”_

_“What is it?”_

_“It would save the Coalition resources and save lives,” Shiro said, his hand curling on the table into a tight fist._

_“It sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself. Tell me.”_

_“Do you remember Commander Fatick?”_

_She nodded slowly. “Yes, I . . . I served him.”_

_“Was he_. . _.how was he_. . _.how did he treat you?” It was hard for him to say._

_“He was kind to me. He never harmed me nor frighten me.”_

_Shiro nodded, perhaps in acknowledgment or relief, she couldn’t tell. “He’s gone rogue from the Empire. He’s hiding with his men in a nebula near the outskirts of the_ Plang _Galaxy. They’ve been attacking supply ships to replenish their provisions. The leaders in that region want them gone. We could move in Coalition forces to attack them, but Kolivan and I have a better idea of enlisting them. Other Commanders have joined the Coalition already, boosting our fleets.”_

_Her hands went around her coffee mug. She raised it to take a sip but realized it was empty. “You want me to talk to him.”_

_“Kolivan tried, but Fatick won’t speak to him. He sees Voltron as an enemy and the Blades and any other Galra as traitors.”_

_She wanted more coffee, but she couldn’t bring herself to rise to get more. She was pinned in her seat by the weight of Shiro’s words. “You want me to speak with him. You want me to convince him to join the Coalition.”_

_“He might be willing to listen to someone he doesn’t perceive as a threat.”_

_“Shiro, I . . .”_

_He suddenly shook his head and held up a hand to stop her. “No, this is wrong. We shouldn’t ask this of you . . .”_

_“I’ll do it.”_

***

By the end of the next day, she was taken to the Castle of Lions. By the end of the following day, she was in communication with Faltick. It took a week of cajoling and coaxing to convince him to at least hear the terms of surrender from the Princess. Then it took three days for their ships to power down as they turn themselves over to the Coalition.

Not one shot was fired nor life loss. There had been others since then, Galra she had known or served during her time in . . .

It tore Shiro apart to request her aid. It was the equivalent of asking a survivor to reunite with an abuser. But it worked out in the end. He offered to take her home but refused. Days later, she was taken to Blade of Mamora training facility where she met Antok.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For updates and news about my works, follow me on Tumblr and Twitter: RebelCourtesan


End file.
